Chapter 32

Chapter 32: I’ll Take Off The Rest Myself 

Shimizu Sakuya wasn’t afraid of physical contact.  

Only true lesbians would get all flustered and tremble at the sight of a girl’s beautiful body.  

Since she wasn’t a lesbian, why would she be afraid?  

Compared to intimate contact, she feared pain far more.  

Over the years, Sakuya had long since developed psychological immunity to these kinds of ambiguous, intimate interactions.  

In other words, while her delicate body might inevitably experience pleasure, her mind remained calm—she wouldn’t feel shy.  

As long as the other person was gentle and cooperative, it could even be quite comfortable—something those who always held the upper hand could never understand.  

But Fujiwara Yuki, a pure-hearted girl who blushed all the way to her ears from just a whisper—could she really handle being completely exposed?  

Wasn’t this just walking right into a trap?  

Despite the unspoken tension thick in the air, Sakuya still believed she wouldn’t back down.  

“I’ll do my utmost to fulfill my duties, Master.”  

With that thought, Sakuya obediently complied with Yuki’s request.  

Her voice was soft, and though she didn’t speak loudly, it rang clearly in the quiet room where only the two of them existed.  

In Yuki’s shimmering golden eyes swirled an unreadable complexity.  

When anxious or afraid, a person’s gaze would dart around in panic.  

But Yuki wasn’t flustered—she simply stared fixedly at Sakuya, as if trying to see through her exterior and into her true state of mind.  

Yet she could discern nothing.  

Finally, Yuki took two steps back and turned away, breaking eye contact.  

“I’ve already arranged for your room to be cleaned. After dinner, go with Miss Saito and learn what a personal maid needs to do during bath time.”  

Then she walked slowly to the landline phone beside the dining table, pressed the red call button, and instructed tonelessly.

“Have Saito take Sakuya to her bedroom. Once she’s settled, teach her the bathing procedures.”  

A personal maid’s bedroom was usually adjacent to the mistress’s—this ensured she could respond to her master’s summons at any time.  

A maid’s every action exists for her master. That was how Miss Saito had explained it.  

Following Saito, Sakuya arrived at the bedroom she would be occupying.  

Pushing the door open, she glanced around. The maid’s quarters were about thirteen square meters, sparsely furnished with just a wardrobe, a simple single bed, and a small storage cabinet.  

The sharp scent of disinfectant hung in the air—clearly, the room had only just been cleaned.  

It made sense for it to feel empty; Yuki hadn’t employed a personal maid in ten years.  

Freshly laundered clothes were neatly folded at the head of the bed, and her schoolbag had been placed atop the storage cabinet.  

Miss Saito waited patiently by the door. “Miss Shimizu, if you’re ready, please come with me to the bathroom.”  

All her living necessities had been arranged—there were no chores left to handle.  

Now, it was time to learn the personal maid’s bathing procedures.  

…  

The massive bathtub was already filled with steaming water, its surface scattered with delicate rose petals.  

Slender fingertips dipped into the water—the temperature was just right, around 45 degrees Celsius.  

Following Saito’s instructions, Sakuya added a small spoonful of golden-hued bath oil.  

Fresh sleepwear had already been prepared in the nearby laundry basket.  

With all preparations complete, all that remained was to wait for Yuki’s summons.  

Right on cue, the alert light on Sakuya’s wristband flashed—a signal that Yuki was ready for her bath.  

Yet, at this moment, an inexplicable tension suddenly gripped Sakuya.  

Human emotions were always like this—no matter how much one believed they had everything under control, when the moment arrived, the urge to retreat always crept in.  

The unknown was inherently anxiety-inducing. Perhaps she was just afraid of what might happen next.  

But there was no turning back now.  

Rounding the corner and walking down the wooden-floored hallway, Sakuya knocked on the door.  

The lock turned, revealing Yuki’s golden, molten gaze.  

“Ready?”  

Sakuya nodded. “Yes. Please follow me, Master.”  

At the archery range, Sakuya had been the one trailing behind Yuki. Now, their positions were reversed, creating a strangely charged atmosphere.  

Neither spoke—the silence was almost oppressive.  

The long corridor echoed only with the rhythmic sound of their footsteps, one after the other.  

As she led the way, Sakuya fixed her gaze on the wooden floorboards, counting them in her mind to distract herself from the awkward, unspoken tension between them.  

To her, Yuki was the most familiar stranger.  

But to Yuki, she was practically a stranger herself.  

What kind of mindset had driven Yuki to make someone she barely knew into her personal maid?  

Would she flee in embarrassment like she had in the archery club’s changing room? Or would she stubbornly cling to her pride like on the training grounds, coming up with some mischievous scheme to save face?  

She was so hopelessly pure.  

Back then, during their first time, Yuki had known nothing—it had been Sakuya who guided her.  

Funny how it happened in the bathroom too.  

The cramped bathroom of the tiny apartment they’d escaped to.  

The Yuki of the past would never have been capable of doing what she was doing now.  

Lost in thought, Sakuya barely noticed they’d already arrived at the bathroom.  

She gently closed the door behind them and turned to face Yuki, who stood waiting for her to undress her.  

Yuki leaned against the wall, arms crossed, brows slightly furrowed, her gaze sharp—like a cat poised to pounce on its prey in the dead of night.  

That look had persisted since dinner, as if she truly wanted to see through Sakuya’s every layer.  

But there was no time to ponder the meaning behind Yuki’s stare—more pressing matters demanded attention.  

According to Miss Saito, the first step was undressing.  

Sakuya spoke softly. “Then I’ll help Master undress now.”  

Yuki gave a quiet “Mm,” but her intense stare never wavered—if anything, her frown deepened.  

Sakuya moved behind her, one hand pulling down the zipper of her black dress while the other gently gathered her smooth, fragrant hair to prevent it from getting caught.  

The faint scent of winter blossoms clung to her, and the ends of her hair tickled Sakuya’s fingertips as they brushed past.  

When her fingers grazed Yuki’s shoulder blades, she felt the other girl shudder almost imperceptibly.  

Once the zipper was fully undone, Sakuya carefully tugged the shoulders of the dress downward.  

The black fabric slid over Yuki’s fair thighs, revealing the elegant curve of her spine, the defined ridges of her shoulder blades, her slender waist, the rounded swell of her hips beneath blue lace, and the long, perfectly sculpted legs beneath.  

Even now, Yuki’s figure outshone every member of the Light Music Club.  

Holding her breath, Sakuya unhooked the white undergarment.  

Yuki’s skin was pale as lustrous pearls—yet, in that instant, it flushed a vivid scarlet, as if painted by sunset.  

Her entire body stiffened, trembling like a tightly drawn bowstring.  

Sakuya patted her shoulder. “Please raise your arms. I’ll remove my Master’s undergarments now.”  

A sharp inhale.  

Yuki took a deep breath, her chest and back rising with it.  

Her voice was flat but unsteady.  

“Turn around and face the wall. I’ll take off the rest myself.”